Saturday, June 13, 2009

A Fantasy - Anonymous

I have a secret. There is some information that has been entrusted to me that must not fall into the wrong hands.  I didn't want to be a carrier of such information, but here I am, and there is nothing I can do about that now.  I must not allow this information fall into the wrong hands; the result would be catastrophic - a matter of national security.

I think back on recent events and my mind lingers on all of the ways in which I would not be in my present predicament.  Unfortunately, none of that helps, none of the "if only" ideas that flit through my mind can change the future that now faces me for certain.

I head the "click, click, click" of the officers' boots as they draw nearer.  "Probably one of those guards that takes pleasure in breaking evey bone in my body" I thought as I huddled in a corner of my dark cell.

The door is swung open, and to my surprise, there stands the most beautiful Lady I can remember seeing.  My eyes are struggling to focus on the vision before me, having become used to the darkness that has been my constant companion for what seems like months, but is probably only a few weeks.  The "click, click" was from the stilettos that cause the Lady to stand several inches higher then the men who follow closely behind, and cause Her legs to be presented in a most attractive manner.

"Bring him to my rooms" She says to the guards that hover just behind Her shoulder; they rush to obey the Lady's words and I am quickly brought to my feet and pushed in no gentle manner out of the cell and along the damp stone walled corridor.  "I have a small matter to discuss with THIS one" She says.

I find myself thrust into a sumptious room with some intriguingly padded furniture adorning both the floor and the walls.  I am thrown into a seat and my arms are stretched behind me; I hear and feel the click, click of the shackles that immobilise them at the wrists and elbows. My ankles are treated to the same fate, and my thighs too.  I feel a band tightened around my waist, and I soon find that I am unable to move a limb.  

The Lady soon enters, and I quickly protest my innocence "I don't know anything" I plead.  Why are You holding me like this?"

the Lady says nothing, but a playful smile runs across Her lips as She glances over to me, and to the feeble protests I have made.  She picks up a short length of leather from the desk - one that seems to have a ball attached to the middle.  Quickly She places the ball into my mouth and snaps shut the clasp at the back of my head.  I find that the ball forces my jaws apart, and that the best I can now muster is "mmpphh, mmpphh".  

"The next words that you speak will be words that I want to hear; understand?" She whispers seductively into my ear, the mixture of a harsh tone and a breathless whisper causing my mind to start to become confused.  Oh if I had only agreed to tell ... if I had only realised what was to become of me, if only I knew then what I know now, I would eagerly and cheerfully have told Her everything She wanted to know.  

Next, She collected a blade from the desk - a finely honed scalpel - and approached me.  She tucked the scalpel into the breast pocket of my shirt, and started to talk to me.  Although I was listening, I was trying to shut out the sound of Her voice - "no fear of being able to hypnotise me" I thought.  As she spoke, She took the scalpel, and slowly sliced off every button of my shirt ... and then hooked the blade under my waistband, and proceeded to slice through the now crumpled and shabby material of my ridiculously expensive dress pants.  

Her words were not erotic; She was telling me that I was going to tell Her everything that She wanted to know.  It was the WAY that She said them, that was so erotic.  She punctuated Her sentances with the scalpel, as it sliced the buttons ... She adorned Her verbs with tear after tear in the pants, until I was not only naked, but I was also aroused.  I desperately tried to think of something - anything - that would prevent my arousal from showing, yet She seemed a practiced expert in Her art, and soon had my cock standing full and hard, throbbing as if awaiting a flag to be affixed.  

"You will regret denying that You have any knowledge to share, little man" She whispered.  "I will not allow you to utter another word until you are a gibbering wreck, deperate to do ANYTHING that I ask you to do.  You will remember this day for the rest of your life."  

So saying, Her darkly painted fingernails dropped to my still throbbing manhood, and started to scratch just gently along the taught flesh.  I remember that Her moist lips were poised just out of reach of mine, slightly parted as She continued to whisper quietly, moving slowly across my field of vision from one ear to the other.  I found myself getting increasingly aroused, despite my best efforts to avoid such an outcome.  My cock was responding to Her touch in counterpoint to the way my mind had resisted the interrogations over the previous weeks and months.  

My breathing started to quicken, and I tried desperately not to whimper as She drew me closer and closer to the edge ... Her touch getting slower and slower - maddeningly slower - as I got closer, until I was hovering just a touch away from exploding, and She smiled and moved back from my bound and helpless body.

I heard Her heels click away behind me and the sound of the door to Her rooms opening and then closing again as She walked away from the first of what was to become countless visits from the Lady that now had me in Her completed control.  How I long for the chance to go back and fail at the interrogation - to confess during the weeks of beating.  At least then I could have had a life - broken as I was.  Now, I don't have a life of my own; I am a plaything, a toy, expected to serve the most awesome Lady that I have ever met.

It was at that moment that I realised that I longed for no such freedom.  I had now found the real me, the me that had lurked hidden by the conventions of society, the part of me that had been supressed by years of conforming.  Now I was actually entirely fulfilled; I reaslied that I was made complete only at the feet of the Lady that had become my only reason for living.  I listened eagerly for the next "click, click" of Her heels as She approached once more, and I longed for the next opportunity to serve Her, the Lady that had become my Mistress.  

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